Red Reversion
by lothocas
Summary: Latvia and Sealand are caught in a war of Russian conquest.  Latvia is the devil's lapdog and does his best to keep himself and his only friend alive. When Russia sets his sights on Sealand, Latvia must finda way to rescue him and end the Russian reign.


This a little thing my friend (**coastalwarfare** on here) and I have decided to write- it started with an idea he had for a Latvia/Sealand rp, and I took it way past that when he mentioned awesome plot things to me.  
>Now it's less of a LatviaSealand fic in the 'relationship' sense, but they are still the main characters.  
>So, we hope you enjoy this morphed fic of ours. <p>

* * *

><p>In all his life, Latvia had never felt so helpless. Not when he had been taken by Russia all those years ago, not when he was being beaten by him, or violated by him, or forced to act like less than a human being.<p>

Russia had gone insane.

He'd been insane for the past few months now.

Two months ago, he'd gotten new leaders. A few in particular, members of the very hated, and very horribly named Bolshevik Party, had managed to bribe, cheat, blackmail and threaten their way back into Russian government. To everyone's horror, they thought and acted exactly as their name suggested. All of the progress the country had made since the Bolshevik Revolution, all of the happiness its people now felt and the joy they had at no longer being hated vanished the moment the word Bolshevik was uttered again.

Within two weeks of taking control, the new head of the government declared that Russia would be the final modern empire. They were to take back each and every territory that had wrongfully been taken from them in the Great Wars. And then some.

The world would become one with Russia, whether it wanted to or not.

War began.

The Russian forces were strong enough and were so overwhelming that it didn't matter if they didn't have superior weaponry; they had enough people to paint every city they came across Red. The Russian army was comprised of people who fought not because they wanted to, but because they were afraid, for themselves and for their families. Fear was how the Russians reigned and it was how they coerced so many of their people into a uniform.

They took soldiers from the countries they captured. The satellites, the former eastern block, were full of people who had relatives who were around when they had been kept as little Communist pets, but none of them knew now how similar it was. They didn't like the Russians, as they had been raised not to, but it was a weak dislike, not the burning hatred of their grandparents. In fact, many in the conquered nations bought into Russian propaganda. 'Peace, Land, Bread'. They could care less about land, peace was no longer an option, but the bread, that is what lured them. The funds the Russian forces recieved, it was what they needed to feed their families. When a non-Russian person joined the Red Army after being conquered, it was to survive, not to die.

Many had to do this, to send checks back to their families. Most men signed up, women were made nurses, children were handed letters harboring checks or speaking about the death of missing parents who had served their God-given purpose in giving their lives for the cause.

This had gone on for two months.

There were two months worth of people this had happened to, and it only kept growing.

As more people were conquered, more were forced to enlist, more soldiers thrown at the enemy, more land conquered. A vicious cycle, and Latvia and everyone else that had been conquered were forced to take part.

But, Latvia thought, he had the worst possible position.

He would rather be in a trench, or throwing a grenade, or being shot at than have to stand next to and work for the very demon who was making this horrible cycle take place.

Instead, he was the dog, the little secretary for Russia himself. Following him around, running his death-inspiring errands, lacing and unlacing his boots.

His heart was lead, and felt heavier everyday as he worked, and nothing could bring him comfort. Surely, nothing.

The only thing he really had to himself was one friend.

His only friend. Not a fellow prisoner, like Lithuania and Estonia. An actual friend.

Sealand was the one person he could talk to when he stopped feeling human. He was so happy-go-lucky, even when most of Europe was red, the front in Germany was at a steady advance, and the Russian army all but knocking down his front door.

They had taken so much in so little time . . .

Really, the only person Latvia could talk to was Sealand.

Though, at this rate, that would soon change, too.

Russia had finally given him a moment, that glorious, little moment between work and sleep where he could be alone. He left the room that he had been given when they had stopped in Germany (Russia had insisted he go with his troops as they headed toward the Atlantic; 'Is it paranoia, or is he just that bloodthirsty?' Latvia wondered) and searched for a quiet, hidden place. It wasn't too hard, a good cabinet was always easy to fit into and find.

He never once imagined asking Russia for a phone, or permission to use one. Who was he allowed to talk to? Russia. And he was always right next door. He'd bought himself a disposable cell when Russia's eyes had been off of him (a rarity) and kept it hidden away for times when he wanted to talk to his friend.

He dialed the number that he knew by heart (had to know by heart) and waited with the same baited breath he always did as it rang, hoping that it wouldn't be a bad time and that someone would pick up.

Sealand paced the decks of his home, eyes darting around occasionally, looking towards the black ocean; scared of what he might see. There were no lights to illuminate the halls of the single object breaking the flat calm of the waters below. The fort no longer glistened with freshly cleaned and spotless walls, but showed signs of the wear and tear that Sealand hated for its scarring his homeland. But now, alone and (though he'd never admit it) nervous, the boy had more important things to worry about. The once peaceful and nurturing waves now harbored criminals, dodging the Russian draft by a life of piracy. In the not-so-distant past, Sealand's older citizens and the royals would protect him from the passing threats. But they'd abandoned their grand aspirations, along with Sealand, not a month before in the dead of night, taking the lone ship docked on the country to nearby England, hoping to avoid the Russian influence they thought would soon be coming to call. But Sealand knew better. He could easily fight off Russia and any army he had with him. The prince had been the one to educate Sealand about geography and had assured him that the usually rough waters surrounding him would be more than enough to keep out potential invaders. And so, Sealand had no concerns for that at all.

Rather, he had begun to realize that, with his fort abandoned, he had absolutely no supplies: food, water, electricity. Though the latter couldn't be fixed, he thought he'd try to send a message to another country, preferably non-Russian, asking for help. He'd always loved shipwreck movies, so he took an empty melon soda bottle and stuffed a handwritten letter in it asking for lamp oil, more melon soda, and an occasional bag of cookies from whomever happened across the note. Using a compass he'd found, he looked south and threw the bottle as far as he could into the ocean. A week later, and with food supplies drastically low, Sealand resigned himself for the worst.

But as luck would have it, while Sealand gazed intensely towards the sea with his legs always swinging over the edge of his home, he saw a small and very plain boat (fancy things and Europe had become strangers since Russia began his advance) and his heart began pounding. It'd been a few days since he'd given up hope for a response to his letter (as these things happened quickly, he thought). He ran faster than he'd ever had to before and wrenched open the desk in the prince's office and clenched his tiny hands around the pistol he'd known was there for years and prepared himself for the oncoming fight with the pirates that were surely coming aboard. But as soon as the exceptionally blonde hair peeked its way over the side of the fort, Sealand dropped the gun and sprinted to help the man onto the deck. France had come to call and with him came stores of food and water and a promise to restock the boy every two weeks from then on.

The only thing Sealand lacked then was Latvia. He'd longed to talk to him, see how he was, but he'd had no such luck. He heard absolutely nothing about his friend for months now and he'd staved off thoughts that harm could have come to Latvia under the new Russian rule.

Under this Russian influence, even non-conquered countries that wished to preempt Russia's wrath would send them updates of the goings-on and actions of the country and his or her government. As he'd learned from France on his second or third visit, he had told Russia about his trips to Sealand and word had gotten back to Latvia, who had met with France under the guise of a Russian diplomatic conference and told him to give a cell to Sealand so that they could talk. And since then, Sealand and Latvia had been in communication every other day.

So, as Sealand trekked across the decks holding an old-fashioned lantern (as batteries were a rarity those days), it was this cell that buzzed violently in his pocket, causing him to jump in alarm. As he tried to get his heartbeat under control, he answered the phone without bothering to check who it was; it had ever been and would ever be one person.

"Latvia! How are you?" he exclaimed, excited as ever to hear from his friend.

With a relieved exhale, Latvia nodded to himself, a silent thanks for Sealand answering, "...I'm alright, I guess. He dismissed me pretty early today..."  
>He thought about it for a moment, his captor's plans and the strategies he'd heard, how truly different Russia had become; even worse now than all those years ago. He'd hoped he'd never see the man lose it like this again, not only for his own safety, but that of the world. As the lone superpower for a while, Latvia thought that America did a good job with things, and thought once or twice about maybe working for him, if things got too tough. He'd probably be able to see Sealand pretty often that way. But, it was too late, now. Since Russsia had returned to being a superpower again, there was no hope.<br>And this conquest was... it was proving to him that there was no way of saving the man.

He'd thought that he was getting better, that the period without war would really help him. But of course, right as Russia had left his nightmares, this happened, and he returned to them in full-force, with images much worse than he'd been able to dream before.

The young man (too experienced, surely, to be considered a boy) sighed against the reciever and curled closer in on himself, "...Things are about the same as they have been over here, but he's annoyed that he hasn't found Germany yet, so I have to be careful not to flare his temper. ...Um," he curled a finger through his hair distractedly, "How is the fort?"  
>Sealand listened on with rapt attention, but had long since understood that this would be a regular part of life for Latvia now. And while Latvia made sure to expound (sometimes at great lengths) about his troubles, Sealand preferred a different method.<p>

"The fort's fantastic! I've been running it perfectly since the royals left. Any day now, they'll come back and thank me for what a great job I've been doing. Mr. France has been coming every two weeks, so I get company and food usually. Maybe once people see how I've been able to keep the country going, they'll start appreciating me! It's a start, right?"

Sealand made sure when talking to Latvia that he didn't plague the already worried man's mind with his comparably minor troubles, so while he always told the truth to Latvia, he emphasized the good things and downplayed the bad.

Latvia nodded, a little smile making its way to his face, "Yes, it certainly is. I'm glad things are going well, I've been a little worried about you being there by yourself, but if France is coming by, you should be fine." Where he hated the idea of the other being alone, he supposed France would be a good help, though they were steadily getting closer to the French-German border everyday. Russia insisted on finding Germany before they moved on, but it wouldn't be long before they were ruining France's pretty cities, too, just like the others. And he'd want to capture France himself, too... Biting at his lip, he thought of what could happen if France fell too quickly, leaving Great Britain and Sealand in the line of fire as next targets. "How is France? Did he mention anything about the front?"

"Not a whole lot," Sealand replied. "He's worried about Mr. Germany a lot though. But since you're with Russia, you'll make sure nothing bad happens to him right? And he's said that he's busy a lot with preparing his troops. But he shouldn't be scared, right?"

Swallowing against the unhappy truth that he knew, Latvia forced a little laugh, "Oh, yes, I'll try to keep him out of trouble. The both of them." Where he was the closest country that was working with Russia at the moment, he didn't have any kind of actual say when it came to things like that, so he could only hope that his best efforts would suffice. At any rate, he was happy to hear that France was preparing troops, that made the odds that much better. "I've never known France to be scared of anything, let alone Russia. Let me know if anything happens, okay?"

"Will do!" Sealand replied, eagerly. "Are you OK, Latvy? You seem a lot sadder than usual. D'ya wanna talk about it?"

With a sigh, Latvia shook his head, "Oh, no, I'm fine, I just... worried," He admitted, "Germany is doing a good job of holding on, but... If Russia finds him and France, then it'll be easy for him to get to you and England. And where your fort is really strong, Peter, you're there by yourself, and..." Pausing, he collected his thoughts, "I just wish there was someone with you, since you can't leave."

Abandoning all pretenses, Sealand replied, "I wish you were here with me too, Raivis. It gets so quiet and boring and even kind of scary sometimes, and I know how much you don't like working for Russia. I miss you, that's all."

Squirming against the wall of the cabinet he was in, Latvia managed to give a soft smile as his heart flipped pleasantly, "I... I miss you, too. If there's anything I can do to help you from here, let me know, I'll do whatever I can."

"And you'll do the same for me?" Sealand replied.

"...Of course." Raivis said quietly, happy to have someone to confide in. As he was about to say something, his paranoia kicked, and he thought he heard footsteps approaching. When dealing with Russia, it was always better to be safe than sorry. "Listen, I have to go now, Peter, but, I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"Aw, all right," Sealand replied, saddened. He'd hoped to stave off his own fears of the lonely night for a little longer, but knew Latvia probably had important work he was eager to be getting back to. "Talk to you later, then, Raivis."

"Bye, Peter." Latvia said, a bit sad he had to disconnect, but hitting the end button with purpose and quickly making sure it was tucked away in his pocket before he carefully looked out of the cabinet door. As it seemed like no one else was around, he climbed quietly out of the cramped space, dusting himself off and closing the door gently. As he went to turn around, he breathed a sigh of relief when everything looked clear and quiet, beginning to walk back to where he'd been given a room.

"And where are you going, Latvia?"

A chilling voice to his right sounded, startling him.

Clenching his eyes shut a moment in fear, he swallowed and looked up to his captor, of all the people he could have run into right then, trying to put on a smile, "A-ah. Mr. Russia, I was just h-heading back to my room from the, um, b-bathroom."

The tall man hummed, "Is that so?"

Latvia nodded, wiping non-existant water from his hands onto his uniform pants, "Y-Yes, sir."

Scanning the younger nation from head to toe, Russia nodded, that sinister smile of his creeping on to his face as he rested a hand on Latvia's shoulder, "Come join me in my room tonight."

It was a command.

With an internal sigh, Latvia nodded and looked at the ground, "...Yes, sir."

Smiling as he put more pressure on Latvia's shoulder, the imperial power steered them back toward his room, where Latvia knew he was going to be spending the rest of the night.

And here he'd thought Russia had been in a good mood.

His mistake.


End file.
